Firefly Shooting
by Jennifer Spellbody
Summary: Alex Rider has to work on a case in Kentucky with a mysterious spy ring that just MIGHT not be showing its true colours ... final chapter up, complete with kissing scene!
1. Prologue

**Firefly Shooting**

Kentucky country shooting. Alex Rider is picked to work on a case with a girl who frightens his socks off. My first fanfic, please be nice.

Prologue

_It is half-past one in the morning, but the air is warm. It is summer, and summer nights in Kentucky are always warm. The fireflies are buzzing._

_Mila Anders is not asleep. She is sat by the window of the small house she has shared with her sister and brother since their parents died. In her hand is a pistol._

_She watches from the window, but she does not watch the door to the room. She does not see the man who has been in the house for two days, hiding in the wine-cellar, since he snuck in when Lacey Jayne Anders had the door open for the milkman._

_But the man sees her. He sees her and speaks from the shadows to her._

_'You're up late, Mila.'_

_Mila turns, cocking the pistol with a practised flick, and training it on the dark shape by the door._

_'How did you get in?' she spits._

_'Through the door. The way everyone gets in.'_

_She snarls like a wildcat._

_'Tell me, Mila,' he says, slowly and easily, coming out from the shadows with the point of his gun aiming for her head. 'Why did you become a spy? Was it because your parents were spies? Or was it because there was no money to support your younger siblings? Of course, the spying business pays well … with blood and death.'_

_'I have never been a murderer.'_

_Mila is frightened, but she doesn't show it. She keeps her pistol hand steady. _

_'No, you haven't, have you?' For the first time, the man seems angry. All the smooth, chilling calm of his killer training has vanished. His dark eyebrows knot together. 'You just betray people, and let others finish them off. Isn't that right?'_

_She whimpers. He knows. How could he know?_

_'And now you've betrayed your younger sister.'_

_'She'll thank me in the end,' Mila says, not believing her own words. 'She will. There's no money.'_

_'You never told her,' the man says, lightly, accusingly._

_'There's no money,' Mila repeats, half in a dream._

_'You never will,' the man says._

_'There's none …'_

_A second later, Mila Anders is dead. But the shot is silent. Her body will not be found until Lacey Jayne comes down in the morning to open the shutters of her bloodstained study._


	2. KSR

Chapter One _KSR_

Alex Rider glared at the man sitting in front of him. As usual, Alan Blunt looked as if he was carved from a piece of particularly old Plasticine.

'You want me to do _what_?'

'We're afraid,' Alan Blunt said, 'that this girl is in danger.'

'Why?'

'Her sister has just been killed.'

He leant across the table and pushed a photograph underneath Alex's nose.

Alex willed himself to look down at it.

The girl staring challengingly at him from the picture was nothing short of stunning. Her hair was very fair, and looped back off her face in a ponytail. Her eyes were hard and blue. She wasn't smiling.

'Which one's this?' Alex asked, dragging his eyes away.

'Pardon?'

'The girl or her sister?'

'Oh. The girl. Her name is Lacey Jayne Anders.'

'And you want me to …? What, exactly?'

Alan Blunt sighed. Alex Rider's glare had not subsided, and his eyes were beginning to feel like lasers. He rubbed his temples, opened a desk drawer and took out a thick wad of papers.

'I'll be blunt, Alex.'

'You always are.'

'This girl has recently been taken on by the KSR. Kentucky Spy Ring. That may sound trivial to you, Alex, but there is a lot of work for a spy ring out in Kentucky, believe me. It's a dangerous job. But that would be OK, if it wasn't for the fact that her sister, who was killed, also worked for the spy ring. And so did their parents.'

'And don't tell me …' Alex said slowly, beginning to sense a Blunt bombshell. 'They were spies too, right?'

'Right. Someone has it in for the Anders.'

'Well, surely that's OK. All they have to do is stop being spies, huh? Then they'll be left alone.'

'Not quite. The KSR seem to have some sort of contract which means that this girl –' he tapped the picture thoughtfully '– has to continue work for them whether she likes it or not.'

'Sounds familiar,' Alex commented, through gritted teeth.

'Anyway, Alex, we were contacted by the Kentucky Police a few days ago. They feel that Lacey Jayne will be ambushed if she is put on to any sort of case. The Kentucky Police have warned the KSR of this, but apparently they don't seem to care.'

'Sounds even _more_ familiar,' Alex muttered.

'Which means, Alex, that Lacey Jayne Anders needs someone else to work on the case with her.'

'Great,' Alex said, flaring up. 'I have to babysit some girl now, do I?'

'Actually, reviewing the information, she'll probably be the one doing the babysitting.'

As usual, there was no hint of mirth in Alan Blunt's pale eyes.

Alex sat down and picked up the picture again. He ran his fingers over the smooth surface of that beautiful, dangerous face that betrayed no emotion … almost as bad, he thought, as Alan Blunt's Plasticine mask.

'What's this case she's working on?' he finally asked.

'A simple theft case, according the KSR,' Alan Blunt said, 'but we think there's something more to it. Mrs Jones has a hunch.'

Alex shifted uncomfortably. Mrs Jones' hunches usually turned out to be correct.

'Lacey was chosen to work on the case because the theft took place at a school, which means she can go undercover as a student. And which means you can go undercover, too.'

'Is that all you're going to tell me?'

'That's all we know.'

'All right.' Alex couldn't help it: he was intrigued. Intrigued by the mysterious Lacey Jayne Anders. 'Just one last thing. If it's just a simple theft case, why have the KSR become involved?'

'They volunteered,' Blunt said, with a chilling laugh that sent shivers up and down Alex's spine. 'And it's your job to find out why.'

This had to be the weirdest case _ever_, Alex thought, as the plane began to gain height. Alan Blunt had been talking in riddles. Was he supposed to spy on this mysterious Lacey girl? Or just on this even more mysterious spy organisation, the KSR?

Alex laughed comfortably to himself. It was almost hilarious. It could almost be a fast-food company. The KFC.

On the other hand, there was Lacey's sister's murder. Alan Blunt hadn't known very much about that either. Apparently, KSR were keeping it to themselves. All he knew was that involved an invisible killer who had managed to enter the house two days before, complete the murder during the night and leave unseen and unheard. It was Lacey who had found her sister's body the next morning.

Alex gave an involuntary shudder and told himself to grow up. He reached into his backpack and produced what looked like a simple CD player with earphones, but actually doubled up as a device for cutting metal and as a bomb.

Smithers had not given him all that much. He had been in a very grumpy mood when Alex had visited him earlier that morning, not at all like his usual cheerful self.

'I suppose,' he had said, dumping the CD player unceremoniously on the table in front of Alex, 'that this spy ring you're visiting will have much more fancy stuff than I can give you here.'

'I haven't been recruited by them, Smithers,' Alex had said, feeling a momentary pang.

Jack had not been all that pleased to hear that Alex was off again.

'Your schoolwork,' she'd said before kissing him goodbye outside the airport, 'is suffering. I suppose it's for the best. But you won't even be practising any languages, will you? You'll probably come back speaking Kentucky dialect …'

Jack was from New York, and very suspicious of outsiders.

Alex stared out of the window. They were above the clouds by now. The sun was bright on the tiny window. He felt cramped. He longed for air. He reached into his backpack and tugged out the picture of Lacey once more. The edges were beginning to crumple. He must have pulled it out every ten minutes ever since the plane had set off.

'Any orders, sir?'

It was the air hostess. She was quite tall, with smooth brown arms and a long rope of plaited fair hair hanging down from her cap. Her face was shadowed by the luggage rack overhead.

'No, that's OK,' Alex began.

Very suddenly, she slid into the seat beside him and her fingers fastened about his mouth.

He choked for air, and then his training kicked in, and he forced her arms up and pinned her back against the seat. And then he let her go in shock.

He'd looked at the photo of her enough to recognise her immediately.

It was Lacey Jayne Anders.


	3. Nighttime visitors

Chapter Two _Night-time visitors_

'What the hell are _you_ doing here?' Alex demanded.

Lacey yanked her cap straight. She glared at him fitfully from those hard blue eyes.

'Alex Rider.'

'That's right,' Alex said, angrily. 'You're supposed to be in danger. I'm coming to help you. That's a great way to welcome me. What the hell are you doing on this plane?'

Lacey's face changed very suddenly. Her eyes switched, almost as though her feelings had been shuttered off inside. The bright angry spark that had lit them only a few seconds before was gone. Her face was smooth and free of emotion. She was completely cold and indifferent.

Alex glanced away. He wouldn't – _couldn't _– hold that icy stare.

He looked out of the window, trying to steady himself. Trying to regain his composure and his dignity. Something about Lacey Jayne Anders made him feel that he had been forced to strip naked and crawl on the floor imitating some lowly form of animal.

'All right,' he said finally. 'Are you going to tell me or shall I just sit here and twiddle my thumbs?'

'Twiddle away, lover boy,' she hissed, venomously. 'I don't need help. I'll throw you down the sewage chute before I need _your_ help. You're just an English schoolboy. Playing _spy_.'

Alex took a deep breath and clenched his fists.

'But,' she said, gazing at him with slight amusement, 'you interest me. In fact, I have a feeling we're going to get on well. Where'd you learn the karate throw?'

'I'm a third black belt in Taekwondo,' Alex muttered bitterly to the seat in front.

Lacey flipped her cap off and brushed a few strands of her from her eyes. 'Whew, they must have trained you up.'

'I was trained for years before I became a spy,' Alex said, and turned to glare at her.

Lacey laughed softly and began to unbutton her air hostess jacket to reveal a pale windcheater and denim skirt.

'Call me psychic, but I figure you don't actually like the whole James Bond thing, huh?'

Alex returned to studying the seat in front. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lacey reach under the seat and tug out a sports bag. She rolled up the jacket and cap and packed them away.

'You planned this, didn't you?'

She held up her hands. 'Not me. The KSR sent me. I presume,' she added, shooting laser beams from her blue eyes at him, 'that you've heard of the KSR?'

'Of course. I'm a thorough worker,' Alex said, mystified with himself. He didn't like Lacey Jayne anymore than she seemed to like him – why on earth was he trying to create the impression that he was the new Sherlock Holmes?

She gave that chilling laugh. 'Well, anyway, lover boy, I was sent to make sure you got into airport OK.'

'By trying to throttle me?'

'Oh no, lover boy. That was all my doing. I just got told to look after you. It was my little … joke.'

Alex felt an involuntary shiver pass up his spine and back down again.

Lacey rose from the cramped little seat with the lithe grace of a mountain lion. She shouldered the small sports bag and nodded crisply in Alex's direction. He noted she'd reverted to the robot face again.

'Well, goodbye, lover boy. I'll meet you at the airport. Don't go wondering off or you might get lost. And there are a lot of nasty men in Kentucky … later.'

Lacey was not pleased with the situation. She did not like the look of Alex Rider. He was too good-looking, too capable and far too strong. The KSR had told her that she was to be lumbered with an English schoolboy – Lacey had expected a skinny, weedy, spotty boy with glasses and a fixation for all things technical. Instead, MI6 had sent a muscular, fair-haired, handsome young man with the looks and character to break any girl's heart and the build of a budding rugby player.

Lacey worked clear-headed and emotionless. She had the exact complex, unfathomable character that never showed on her face. She had the ability to become a human robot.

'Why have you given me a _schoolboy_?' she demanded, storming into the main lecture room of the KSR offices later that day.

'Is he weedy and spotty and bespectacled?' Faith Cartwright inquired frostily.

Lacey turned on her. Faith was a brooding presence in the centre of the room. She was perched on the edge of her desk, her suit crisp and starched, her hair smoothed back off her face and knotted at the nape of her neck.

'No,' Lacey admitted. 'But I don't need help, you know that.'

'The case,' Faith said, reaching coolly under the desk for a folder and flipping it open, 'takes place at the Rosary Boarding School in Eastbrook. Stolen terminals. Sounds right up your street, Miss Anders.' She glanced up and gave a smile that made Lacey gulp. 'You need another undercover officer with you –'

'Officer!' Lacey snorted. 'He's nothing more than a kid!'

'As are you.'

Lacey refused to be downtrodden. 'He's probably completely inexperienced. I'm much better working on my own, you know that.'

'In fact,' Faith said, examining her nails, 'he's very experienced. Ten years of martial arts training, superior language skills and several cases firmly under his belt. I trust you read about the Stormbreaker case? And the case of the cloning that took place up in the mountains? And of course, the _infamous_ Scorpia case. How could anybody forget that?'

'He nearly died,' Lacey spat. She found herself jumping involuntarily to Alex's defence. 'All of you spy agencies are the same. You don't care how many people you murder so long as you get the case.'

'Two reluctant teenage spies,' Faith said softly. 'You'll get on very well. I rest my case. You're dismissed.'

Alex was tired. He had jetlag from the plane and he'd been up the night before until eleven o'clock. But something was nagging at the back of his mind. He couldn't sleep. He'd unpacked his bags and had a meal delivered to his hotel room, but he was restless, and every time he was on the verge of dozing off, something in the far corner of his brain gave a little leap. He couldn't for the life of him think what.

Finally, he gave up trying to rest and switched on the bedside lamp. Outside the luminous hotel sign glowed through the starless night sky. The heady warmth of Kentucky summer flowed through the open window from the balcony outside. The curtains rustled in the breeze.

He swung his legs out of bed and opened the small door to the balcony.

He stood outside, stretching his arms and yawning, watching the lighted aeroplanes cross the sky.

There was a chestnut tree growing near to the balcony; the side branches swept the ornate metal fence. The tree was in shadow, and the breeze was too light to even shift the branches. And yet Alex was certain that there was something moving in the tree.

The old Alex, before he'd become a spy, would have dismissed the 'something' as a squirrel or a nest of birds. But the new Alex was trained as a spy, and however hard he tried to ignore it, he was a good spy. He was trained to be constantly on his guard.

Alex knew that, while he was standing on the balcony, he had an advantage over the person (and by now he was sure it _was_ a person) in the tree. He also knew that as soon as the person saw him there, he or she would climb down.

Alex struggled with an internal conflict. He didn't like to go looking for trouble. On the other hand he was certain that whoever was there had come for him – had come because _he_ was staying in the hotel room. There were no other balconies close enough.

Slowly, very slowly, he let himself down over the edge of the balcony and caught one of the lower branches of the tree. He was now below the rustling thing. He was pretty sure that whatever it was hadn't seen him.

Alex wasn't the best of tree-climbers. He hung, holding onto the branch with both hands, and kicking at mid-air. The muscles in his arms screamed. He wrapped his legs around the tree trunk and eased his arms. Clinging to the tree like a monkey, he began to inch his way up, following the rustling sound.

The person disengaged itself from the tree and leapt with catlike grace down onto the balcony. For a second, Alex thought it was Lacey. Then he saw the tight muscles and chest of a man.

The man's face was covered with a balaclava helmet, and he was dressed in tight-fitting black. His hair straggled over his shoulders and reached down his back, caught up in a greasy elastic band.

Hanging, sloth-like, from the tree, Alex watched the man peer intently through the lighted window, and then move closer to the glass. After gazing through for several seconds, the man reached down and gripped the handle of the balcony door. He entered the room and closed the door behind him.

Alex swung up from the tree onto the balcony and looked through the glass, just like the man had done. The man was standing by the empty bed, looking at the sheets thrown back and the lighted lamp.

Then, suddenly, as if he felt Alex's eyes on him, he turned. Alex ducked, his heart beating ferociously fast.

The black-clad figure slipped from the door and down the tree like a cobra. Alex crouched on the balcony, breathing deeply and trying to still his leaping heart.

He knew what he'd seen.

The man wasn't dressed completely in black. On the left side of his chest was a small badge. And the badge said 'KRS'.


	4. KSR Headquarters

Thanx to **Remussweetie**, **uranium** and **closetwriter** for reviewing! Sorry I didn't mention you before! **Closetwriter** … sorry about the cliffhangers but I just lurrrrrrve them!

Chapter 3 _KSR Headquarters_

Alex was mystified.

He was no fool. From the very beginning he'd known that the KSR wasn't just a simple spy ring. No normal spying agency would send agents off to research the theft of a few school computers. But he didn't know all that much about crime levels in Kentucky. Perhaps they just wanted to give their budding agents something to do.

But why on earth had they sent someone to check up on him in the middle of the night?

It was obvious the mysterious black-clad figure had not got there by accident. It was also obvious that he had not been given the room with the easily accessible balcony by accident either. The whole thing had been planned meticulously. The room had been picked especially because of the chestnut tree. Perhaps all of KSR's more mysterious clients stayed there so they could be 'checked on'.

The man had not been armed, nor had he been there to steal anything of Alex's. He'd been there for only one thing – to make sure Alex Rider was safely in bed and asleep.

Right?

Alex had not slept well that night. He'd shut and locked the window and door and closed the curtains. The room had become unbearably hot and he'd woken several times sweating and tossing in his bed. By half-past six he gave up trying to sleep and opened the curtains to a bright new morning.

Lacey had knocked on the door of his suite at half-past eight.

'I'm not ready to leave yet,' Alex said frostily, glaring at the KSR badge on her chest.

'Stop eyeing me up,' Lacey spat back.

'I'm not,' Alex said, switching his gaze forward and swinging his rucksack onto his shoulders. He shut the door behind him and locked it. 'You're going to have to stay here for a while. Because I'm going downstairs to talk to the manager.'

'Why?' Lacey demanded, following him. She stepped purposefully on the back of his trainers. He turned and glared at her.

'Because I need to change rooms.'

He watched her carefully, and was disappointed by the reaction. She just looked suitably surprised. He had a feeling that Lacey hadn't known about the night-time visitor either.

'Why's that?'

'Never you mind.'

'I mind,' she said. 'Because I'm representing my agency –' here she spat bitterly onto the polished linoleum of the floor '– and it's up to me to make sure you're _comfortable_.'

Alex ignored her and knocked on the door of the manager's office. After an uncomfortable interview with the manager, he succeeded in getting a room on the fourth floor, a lot higher than any chestnut tree could reach.

'May I inquire as to why you feel the necessity to change rooms, sir?'

Alex hesitated. Lacey was watching him closely.

'The smell from the fast-food place is driving me nuts,' he decided. 'Every hour of the day and night the room stinks of fatty chips. I lead a healthy diet and I despise having to smell the sort of crap most people eat.'

The manager put him down as a snobby English schoolboy and let him get on with it. Lacey, on the other hand, was harder to get rid of. All the way to the KSR Headquarters she pestered him.

'For God's sake, Alex. You can't smell the McDonalds' from there. You're being completely hypocritical – about this whole 'obese nation' thing. Grow up.'

'I don't like it,' Alex said. 'Fatty foods make me feel sick. I can practically hear the sizzling of the frying pans from that room. Right into the night.'

'You're a moron.'

He ignored this and the two of them progressed into the HQ. Lacey led him into a wide, empty lecture room and told him to sit down while she fetched somebody.

Alex reached into his bag and took out a magazine. He sat down on one of the chairs and from behind the magazine he scanned the room with the CD player.

There were two bugging devices and a pinhole camera. Understandable. It was, after all, a spying agency.

There was also another electrical device that Alex could not work out. On the screen of the CD player it appeared as a blinking red square. Around the room, there was a continual line of them, set deep into the wall.

Alex put the CD player away and turned to examine the wall behind him. Then he moved out of the line of vision of the camera and ran his fingers over the raised wallpaper.

There was nothing to see. Whatever they were, the wallpaper covered them completely.

A door at the far end of the room opened and Alex jumped. He kicked back on his heels and pretended to be examining the wall in deep boredom from a distance. Lacey came into the room, followed by a tall, well-shaped woman in a tight black suit.

'Hey, Alexander,' Lacey called, smirking.

Alex gave her a vague, uninterested smile.

'I'm Faith Cartwright,' the woman said. She held out a hand. Alex noticed that her nails were long and painted a deep, rich purple that clashed with the dark suit.

'I'm Alex Rider.'

'I know that,' she said, with a half-smile. 'Well, we'd better get to work. You know all there is to know, I presume.'

'Not really,' Alex said. 'Why are you getting involved in the case? Why not leave it to the police force?'

'The police force in Kentucky is notoriously bad,' Faith said smoothly. 'Besides, we need to give our rising star here some practice.' She touched Lacey on the shoulder. Lacey winced. 'Anyway, Mr Rider, I presume you know why _you're_ here? Not to criticize our workings but to offer some protection to Miss Anders. She needs to work – but she needs to work safely… and I'm afraid the police force has _insisted_ that we give her some back-up before they'll allow her to do any sort of field work.'

'Sure,' Alex said. He was beginning to feel like a tin can tied to the tail of a particularly over-active dog.

Faith clicked her fingers and a woman entered the room. She was carrying a set of uniform-type clothing over her arms.

'This is the Rosary School uniform,' Faith said. 'Mr Rider, you've been issued with the regulation school trousers and blazer … Miss Anders, you have a skirt.'

'A skirt,' Lacey repeated. 'In my school there never was any uniform.'

'This is a _boarding_ school.'

Alex caught the uniform that was thrust unceremoniously into his arms. 'I take it we're boarding?'

'That's right, Mr Rider. The two of you have been issued rooms. You will be given a set of clothing to wear after school hours.'

'I already have stuff.'

'You're posing as Joshua Rider, a young man interested in following medicine and chemistry. Therefore you will be given suitable clothing.'

'One more thing,' Alex said. 'Why are we going undercover?'

'Practice, Mr Rider. Practice makes perfect.'

The woman left the room unsmilingly. Faith glanced at the two of them with an expression bordering on suspicion on her face, and then followed. Lacey and Alex looked at each other.

'Do _you _know why we're going undercover?' Alex asked her. 'It seems a bit pointless.'

'Not a clue,' Lacey said wearily, and Alex thought she sounded more human than she ever had before.


	5. Rosary School

Chapter 4 _Rosary School_

Alex and Lacey were released from the HQ at twelve o'clock. Faith had asked them to return in a few hours, and receive their school trunks and other personal belongings. Lacey disappeared as soon as they were out the door, and Alex went back to his hotel. He was worried. He still hadn't figured out what those anonymous red squares were. He wasn't accustomed to his CD player's key. Of course, they could be perfectly harmless. Perhaps they were simply part of the wallpaper. But why were they so carefully set out, in such meticulously straight lines?

He toyed with the idea of telephoning MI6 and asking to speak with Smithers. But MI6 was untouchable; aloof. He had several phone numbers, all of which would direct him to Personnel at the fake Royal & General, and it would probably take several voice scans to get him through.

He might as well, though. There was nothing else for him to do.

He lifted the phone from his bedside table and dialled the number.

It was only then he realized that there was no dialling tone.

Alex Rider swore, loudly. Lacey Jayne Anders, behind him, tutted primly and smirked at him as he swung around, cursing.

'Why the hell doesn't this phone work? And what the hell are you doing here?'

'Why d'you think? D'you really think HQ want you phoning out all the time? And didn't you know that the hotel staff monitor the phones anyway? We don't really like the whole world to know what goes on in KSR.'

Alex slumped, deflated, and removed the CD player from view behind his back. Lacey was back to scowling now, and she sat down on the chair opposite him, glowering fitfully at him.

'For God's sake,' Alex found himself saying, 'you'd be quite pretty if you didn't look so angry all the time. Can't you cheer up?'

Lacey's face stiffened, and she moved very close to him, and said in a low, tight voice that made his blood freeze, 'I have just lost my sister. I doubt even you, the _unfeeling_ _English_ _schoolboy_ that you are, would be very cheerful if you'd just lost your sister.'

'I'm sorry,' Alex said, and then he noticed that Lacey's face was barely inches from his. He could see the grey-green circles around her blue eyes, and the thick, dark eyelashes that reached each corner of her eyes. He could see the dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose, and the small crack on her top lip that was just healing over. And then he lost himself, and he kissed her.

For a second, it almost felt as though she was kissing him back, but then she pushed him sharply from her and cracked him hard, across the cheekbone. He was taken utterly by surprise, and loosened his grip on the edge of the bed. He slid down, scraping his backbone on the wooden bedstead, and as he gathered himself and began to test each limb carefully for damage, he heard Lacey run from the room.

Neither of them spoke on their way to the Rosary School. It was raining outside, and great sheets of drops slid across the window-screen. Alex concentrated on working his new clothes out of their stiffness. He was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, and a pale shirt with a tie. He was also wearing black-rimmed, square-lensed glasses, and his hair was spiked and slathered in gel. He was Joshua Rider, the medical genius. Even Lacey had had to smirk when she saw him. He looked, and felt, a complete idiot.

Lacey, on the other hand, was dressed in a loose, knee-length brown skirt and a patterned, fitted shirt. She seemed quite comfortable, and her scowl had relaxed a little. She was gazing out of the window of the minibus, and every time Alex glanced at her, she looked stonily back, and he felt heat creeping up his face.

He was still trying to regain his professional attitude when the bus stopped, and the driver threw them their bags. As far as the driver was concerned, they were Joshua Rider and Leonora Andrews, two new students for the mysterious Rosary Selective School, which was renowned for taking in the cream of the country as children were concerned, and then swallowing them for ever. No famous medical genius had ever come out of the Rosary School. A lot went in, but none came out. It was almost as though in the school, budding doctors and scientists lost interest completely and left quietly as small-time corner shop managers and milkmen.

Alex dragged his two cases down the steps of the bus and thankfully slipped his CD player into the front pouch of one of them. He had been carrying it attached to the belt of his trousers, beneath his shirt, for several hours, and it had left a huge hole in his stomach, not to mention it had looked as though he was sporting the stump of an extraneous leg.

'Well, are you coming then?' Lacey snapped behind him.

'Of course,' he said, with careless ease, and picked up his cases.

Lacey watched him walk in front of her, the shirt and jeans clinging to his well-formed, muscular body. She watched the sun glinting off his greased back hair. He wasn't convincing as a nerd. He was far too tanned and well-built.

Alex stopped in the yard of the school, and took a good look around. The building was tall and old, with a dark roof and unlighted windows. There was a great deal of ivy growing over the walls. As he looked around, he saw that the school spanned a huge, sprawling complex of newer-looking buildings, most made of red brick, but one a huge, white concrete construction with a small door in the side and windows fixed very high up.

'I wonder what that is,' Alex said, as a way of making conversation.

Lacey gave him a sardonic look. 'Don't you _read_? It was all over the papers. It's a new games hall and it cost a bomb.'

'I read English papers,' Alex said, stiffening at the word 'bomb'. He felt a shiver run down his spine. Lacey caught his look and said slowly, as though she was forcing herself to share this information with him,

'It doesn't feel right, does it?'

'No,' Alex said reluctantly. He looked at Lacey. 'Lacey – _Leonora_ – do _you_ know anything else about this computer business? It's too vague for words. There must be something else involved.'

'You're interested in _Science_, aren't you, Joshua?' Lacey said smoothly, looking over his left shoulder.

Alex tightened his jaw, and turned around slowly. Behind him was a tall, skinny woman with tight red curls, and a thin mouth. She raised one delicately arched eyebrow and looked at him coldly.

Alex stuck out a hand. 'Joshua Rider, ma'am.'

Her face relaxed, and he noticed the dark powder that encrusted her face, and the thin mouth outlined with greasy red lipstick.

'I'm Elle Vaughan,' the greasy red mouth said. She gripped his hand and he felt dry skin and hard nail polish beneath his fingers.

Alex tore his eyes away and put a hand on Lacey's shoulder, meaning to introduce her in a gentlemanly fashion, but she moved away and almost seemed to revert to her normal, brooding self for a moment. Then she giggled brightly and plucked at her shirt.

'You get yours from the Lodestone?'

'Sure did,' the woman said, and they compared shirts with the ease of two fashion addicts.

'Great shop,' Lacey said. 'They have a sale on next month, and I'm going to buy some of their sandals.'

Alex watched the two of them in cold silence. They moved off, chatting brightly, and he followed, lugging his cases and thinking deeply. He couldn't help his gaze from wandering over to that building. It was so simply constructed and yet seemed to powerful and terrible. He almost felt a sick sensation of dread in his stomach when he looked at it.

Lacey, in front, was feeling the same. She could barely keep the anxiety out of her voice. The place was dead and cold; Elle Vaughan was too carelessly childish and her laugh sent shivers up Lacey's spine.

The two of them were glad when they reached the door of the building and were out of sight of the sports hall.

Elle motioned for them to stop. She handed Lacey's case to her and said, 'OK, sweetheart – and you, Joshua. There aren't many students staying here at the moment. This is the boarding area. There is a leisure complex situated on this floor, with ping-pong tables, and full-colour plasma screens and so forth. There is also a library and a swimming pool. The concrete building you saw as you came in is the sports hall. It's out of bounds at the moment since the metalwork in the roof can conduct electrical rays from a great distance and therefore is extremely dangerous. It's being worked on at the moment.

'Over to the left are the Science block –' (here Alex attempted to look interested) '– and the other classrooms. I'm afraid the Rosary School doesn't take much interest in Music, Art or Drama, so we don't have many facilities for those subjects, but we have a large Psychology, Sociology and Defence department. This is the school you come to so you can learn about life.'

Lacey twitched involuntarily beside Alex.

'Your rooms are situated high up in this building. Near the roof. I must ask you both not to leave your rooms during the night. It's a school rule and I expect neither of you to break it. Please take the lift to your rooms now. There will be a bell in about an hour's time signalling dinner. Then progress to the dining hall which is on this floor. The lifts are programmed to take you straight to your rooms – simply key in the numbers and you'll arrive on the right floor. Mr Rider – you are in Room 006. Miss Andrews – Room 009.'

Elle did not wait for them to speak, but hustled to two of them impatiently into the lift. Alex caught a whiff of her cloying perfume as she shut the door, and felt ill.

In the lift, he tried to behave normally. He felt as if he were being watched, the whole time. Lacey stepped on his foot and hissed in his ear,

'There's a camera in the corner. Don't look at it. But I don't think there's any other bugs.'

Alex was surprised that she could be so suspicious. He spoke in a low voice in her ear.

'Why are we only in number 6 and number 9? Don't you think there should be more students here? It's a very famous school.'

'That games hall,' Lacey said broodingly. 'It's too big. It's way too big for a games hall.'

'I think there's more to this computer theft than meets the eye.'

'I've thought that for a long time. She didn't even mention the IT department, and you'd think that'd be on her mind since the theft.'

The lift stopped with a grating beep. The doors slid open smoothly and Lacey stepped out, dragging her cases behind. Alex followed.

The room in front was number 004. He walked down the corridor. All the doors were the same. Plain, polished wood, with a small, oblong slit of silver metal where the handle would usually be. Two of the doors stood open – Lacey's room and his.

The small slit of metal was to insert a card. Alex felt this a little too paranoid for a boarding-school. Who was going to steal anything within a school of precocious geniuses? Only another precocious genius, and precocious geniuses don't usually waste time stealing from other precocious geniuses. Usually, they are too busy trying to hack into the President's email account.

Alex entered his room slowly. It was light and airy. The floor space was wide and there were no carpets on the polished wood tiling, only a few plain rugs made of black rubber. They lent an odd, cheap look to an otherwise expensive-looking room. The wardrobe, chest of drawers and desk were all dark wood, but the bed was small and narrow. There was a large ensuite bathroom and a bookshelf, devoid of books. There was also a laptop on the desk, and a sound system.

Alex gazed in amazement around the room. It seemed as if it were taken from two completely different rooms. Part of the room was comfortably furnished, and the other part, like the rugs and the bed, looked as if they had come from the army training camp Alex had been to at the very beginning of his career with Special Operations.

This made him think for a second, and he began, methodically, to search the room. First he scanned for bugs. There was one, situated high in the left-hand corner. This, on its own, was fishy. The place was a boarding-school, or supposedly. Why on earth were they bugging their pupils?

He looked through the drawers and through the desk and wardrobe unsuccessfully. While he worked, he played one of his CDs (a genuine one) on the sound system, hoping this would cover up any noise of what he was up to.

Then he turned over one of the rugs.

The bottom of the rug was dusty, as though it hadn't been moved while the rest of the room was cleared. As Alex looked along the floor of the room, he was certain he could see marks – small circles where something heavy had cut into the wooden flooring. There was a continuous line of them disappearing under the wardrobe, set evenly apart, marking about the same width and length as the posts of his bed. Had there been other beds in here before?

He looked back at the rug, and stopped short. He almost stopped breathing for a moment.

On the bottom of the rug, near the corner, was a small marker. Part of it had been torn hastily off, but there was enough there for Alex to recognise the three red letters:

'KSR.'


	6. Leap of faith

Thanks so much to **Elizabeth Catworth**, **Fudge 1** (who inspires me as well as helps me but is very rude about Alex's teenage blues), **alexiro1**,** Saynt Jimmy**, **Remussweetie** and **uranium** for reviewing. I love you guys!

Chapter 5 _Leap of Faith_

After dinner, Alex returned to his room, and knew immediately that something else had been going on. He'd left one of the drawers slightly open, and now it was shut. One of his paperback books on Psychological Physics had been kicked under the bed. He'd put it on the floor purposefully. He knew that someone had been in there, probably to search his stuff, and thanked heaven that he'd kept the CD player in his pocket – it looked cheap and was not the sort of thing a young medical genius would carry around.

Dinner had been a quiet affair. There were only two of them there. He'd expected there to be more, but Elle had turned up halfway through and said that there was a counselling meeting with the other six pupils. The number of other teenagers at the Rosary School seemed to be receding fast.

Alex had not scanned the big dining hall for bugs, but he'd seen the cameras situated in each corner. Unsurprisingly, Lacey did not talk much, and Alex, who was used to Jack's chatter, felt uncomfortable and ate quickly.

From the window of his room, Alex could just about see the huge white bulk of the games hall. He thought to himself. Why would anyone put metalwork in the roof of a concrete building that was only meant for games? Metalwork roofs weren't in use anymore. They were an architect's nightmare from the 1930s. People just didn't _do_ it nowadays. And Lacey had said the building was new.

Alex pulled the curtains, shaking himself. This case did not involve the spooky games hall. It involved stolen computer terminals, and that was it.

Then why did everything seem to be connected to the KSR?

Alex showered, noisily, and banged about the bedroom, keeping one eye on the bug. Then he turned off the light and sat by the window, watching the moon rise over the hill behind the school. It soon went behind a cloud and the courtyard below him was lit in an eerie, greyish glow.

He left his bedroom, locking the door behind him, and padded down the corridor. As he passed Lacey's room, something black and noiseless skidded out of it and caught him around the waist as it tried to regain its balance. It was Lacey, panting hard.

'Alex, did you see them?'

'See what?' he hissed back.

She disengaged her arms. Her face was alight, alive. She looked – Alex shook his head, disbelieving it, but it was true – she looked _happy_.

'The men,' she whispered back, between breaths.

'No,' he answered. Lacey's room was nearer the main entrance to his. He couldn't see much of the courtyard because of the great balustrade of carved stone that jutted out over the door.

'Where are you going?'

'What men?'

'Tell me first,' she demanded, regaining her old scorn.

'All right.' He lowered his voice. 'I'm going to the games hall.'

'I thought so,' she said. Her eyes glittered in the darkness of the hallway. 'These men … perhaps we should go into my room. I'm not sure about this hall. There's a bug in my bedroom, though.'

'How do you know?' he snapped.

'I have my ways,' she bit back, flushing.

'We'll stay here,' he said, relaxing a little. 'It's clean. I checked earlier.'

'All right,' she said. She glanced back into the open doorway of her room. A pale grey light filtered through the curtains and threw her face into shadow. 'I was planning to go out this evening too. So I stayed up, and I watched the courtyard. About half-past ten, a van drew up. Over to the left, under the hornbeam trees. You'll see it if we go out. I expect you can't see it from your room. Anyway, a man got out, dressed completely in black, and opened up the back, and out came another five men. They were all quite young and had cases with them. They were dressed in camouflage. They went up to the door and knocked and Elle came out, all dolled up and looking as if she was off to a party. They went in and shut the door, and five minutes later I heard the lift begin to clatter and go down. I expect they're staying here.'

'But why are they here?' Alex wondered. He shook himself. 'OK, Lacey. We have to get down and out. Where's the stairs?'

The two of them split and began to search the corridor, but every door was locked and every corner was a dead end. They rejoined outside the lift and gazed at each other in mystification.

'The lift,' Lacey said despairingly. 'It's the only way.'

'No, wait.' Alex looked at her, summing up her strength. 'We can't risk the lift, it's far too noisy. There's the ivy.'

'The ivy?'

'Don't do that; you sound like a parrot.'

She actually grinned, and flashed him what was an impossibly flirtatious smile. 'All right, Mr Rider, if you think you're up to it. We'll do it together. _You_ can go first.'

At both ends of the corridor were large windows with heavy black curtains drawn across. The one at the left end of the corridor looked out over the modern red brick campus, but the one at the right end was only a matter of feet away from the wall of the games hall.

Alex opened the curtains and pushed back the window catch. Lacey looked at the wall opposite them. Then she tapped Alex's shoulder.

'Do you think we can get into the hall from the roof?'

'Why's that?'

'Look.'

She pointed. Alex followed her finger and noticed that there was a fire escape jutting out of the side of the building a few metres above them. It didn't seem to be finished yet, since it hung in mid-air, suspended only by some flimsy-looking scaffolding. However, it led right up onto the roof of the hall.

Alex nodded. He swung himself carefully out over the sill of the window and, holding onto the thick iron curtain rail, gazed up the side of the house. It was overgrown with thick ivy stalks, and an iron drainpipe wound its way up through them, making it all the easier.

Then Alex made the mistake of looking down.

The two walls, of the games hall and of the house, so close together, made him feel impossibly tight and claustrophobic. The ground seemed a very long way away. He swayed, cursing himself, and felt Lacey's arms around him, tugging him back through.

She gave him an appraising look.

'I'll go first.'

Lacey was a good climber. She didn't seem at all deterred by the height, and cut out of the window and up the ivy as if she were swinging off the monkey bars in a playground. Alex followed her lead, and stopped when she did, as she reached the level of the fire escape.

'Jump?' she asked him, peering down at him underneath her arm.

'Yes.'

He had two good footholds, and his left arm was wound around the drainpipe. So long as he didn't look down, he was safe.

He watched the muscles in Lacey's legs tense, and spring. She let go of the pipe and pushed off with her legs, sending her arms forward and wrapping her whole body, sloth-like, around the bar of the scaffolding as she reached it.

She slid over to the other side of the fire escape, and gave a shaky laugh.

'It's OK,' she said. 'Leap like little frog, Alex.'

Alex ground his teeth and climbed a little higher. The muscles in his arms stretched a little two much for comfort and his legs shook. He unwrapped one arm from the drainpipe, took a deep breath, and leapt.

He had miscalculated the jump, and missed the pole by a few centimetres. Instead, he sprawled on the fire escape itself, but too much of his body had gone too little distance, and he began to slide off. Lacey reached down and hooked her hands into his armpits, dragging him up into safety. The fire escape began wobbling dangerously. It was obviously very unsafe. One piece of scaffolding fell off. Lacey's eyes widened in fear. She seemed to sense what was coming next.

'Run!'

They ran. Behind them, it was as if an earthquake were erupting. The fire escape jangled helplessly in their wake, and as they reached the roof it gave way completely and fell, crashing against the sides of the two buildings as it ricocheted its way to the bottom.

They lay, shakily, on the concrete roof of the games hall. There was no sign of any metalwork anywhere, Alex noted, as he tried to get his breathing even again. Beside him, Lacey was moaning.

'Never again. Never, ever again …'

'It's OK,' he said. 'We're safe now.'

'Where's the door?' she asked, looking up.

'Erm …'

They were spreadeagled on a perfectly flat surface. There was no door and no other fire escapes of any sort to be seen.

'We're trapped,' Lacey said slowly.

'Not trapped,' Alex said. 'There's something here to get down. I know it.'

She gazed at him. There was definite strength in those grey eyes.

Alex got to his feet and began to walk along the edge of the roof, watching out for his feet and shuddering a little at the height. He met Lacey at the third corner.

'_Nada_,' she said, biting her lip.

'Hell.'

'There must be another way. Wait, I have an idea.'

He watched her as she lay down on her stomach and peered over the edge, gripping the coarse concrete with her fingernails. She let out a deep, drawn out sigh and wormed her way back. Then she sat up, dusted her hands off and grinned shakily.

'There's a way.'

'Where's that?'

'Down there is a window. And also down there is a large hornbeam tree.'

He got it. 'It's my turn to go first.' He braced himself for the leap, taking a deep breath and calculating the distance between the leafy top of the tree and the roof, but Lacey caught his hand.

'No! I'm lighter than you; I'll go first. I'll be fine. There's some smaller branches on the lower side anyhow. I can grab them if I miss.'

Before he could speak, could caution her to be careful, she had prepared herself and leapt wide out, her arms thrust up. She did indeed miss the higher, leafier canopy of the tree, but she caught a lower branch squarely in her fingers and squirmed her way up.

He couldn't see her now, just the odd flash of her pale hair and a glitter of her eyes. He thought he heard an owl hoot in the darkness. It was very lonely up there on the roof of the games hall.

Alex bent his legs, flexing the muscles in his already exhausted limbs, and jumped.

His stomach flipped and cartwheeled, and he very nearly left his arms lying limply at his sides, but as he crashed into the canopy he finally pushed them down and caught a branch, scraping his wrists and gasping with the pain. A branch sprang up and he backed up just in time to avoid it scratching his eye out; instead it caught him a long cut across his cheek.

'Alex?'

He wriggled down, feeling through the darkness for branches and footholds. He felt an arm encircle his waist. Lacey was peering at him through the darkness. She looked worse for wear too. There were several scratches on her face, and a deep, nasty-looking cut on her left shoulder.

'Want to go down?'

'No!'

Alex glanced across at the window. The ledge wasn't far. But what if it were locked?

'Come on,' Lacey said, reading his mind. 'Might as well go. Your turn to go first.'

'OK.'

He tried to rub some of the feeling back into his shaking legs. He was exhausted by now. His arms ached, and his head swam.

Alex jumped, for the last time.

In his light-headedness he had put too much power into his leap. He crashed into the window, and felt it give way behind him. In a shower of broken glass he toppled over the ledge and landed on the other side, groaning. A moment later Lacey shot through, shocked and caught unawares, and landed on top of him.

'Sorry,' she moaned, rolling off, and sitting up, massaging her elbows.

'Why the hell did that window break? Easy to get in here, isn't it?' Alex muttered furiously, trying to sit up without getting glass splinters down his shirt.

'You're right, it is.'

It wasn't Lacey who spoke. The voice came from the darkness in front of them, from behind the glint of cold steel.

It was Elle Vaughan, and she was holding a gun.


	7. Welcome to the Killing Room

In this chapter we have a little bit of mumbo-jumbo spoken by Lacey and Alex under their gags, but there is translation available in italics beside it all and I assure you the characters understand each other perfectly well. Thanx again for all your reviews!

PS Thanks again to **Fudge 1** who is still reviewing faithfully to inform you all about me telling her the entire plot of this fanfic in Biology.

Chapter 6 _Welcome to the Killing Room_

Lacey and Alex instinctively drew together, gripping each other's hands.

'How sweet,' Elle sneered. There was a click and the two teenagers blinked as a sudden bright white light seared down upon them. As their eyes became adjusted to it, Alex saw the customary KSR badge on Elle's chest. Lacey, however, was shocked.

'You're – you're working for the KSR?' she stuttered, completely thrown.

'Sweetheart,' Elle drawled. 'I think there's something you need to know about your _spying agency_. Take 'em.'

This last remark shattered Alex's concentration, as it seemed so obscure, until two strong arms gripped him tightly from the side, forcing his arms behind his back. He struggled, but something was placed over his face, and he bit down on hard, musty cloth that filled his mouth with a mouldy, dank taste. He heard a muffled gasp beside him and knew that Lacey had been taken in the same way.

'Down to the Hall,' he heard Elle say, and there was mocking danger in her voice.

The Hall was a long, dark room, lit only by the skylights through which the moonlight flowed. Lacey and Alex had been tied to chairs and left. Their two captors had melted into the dark, and Elle had left them without a word.

Alex's arms were by now so painful that he was finding it hard to keep consciousness. Lacey, beside him, seemed to be suffering the same thing. She wasn't crying, but her face had gone very pale, and she was biting down very hard on her dusty gag.

'Argh-lex?' ('_Alex?_')

He turned his head as much as he could and looked at her. She seemed to be gathering her strength.

'Argh'll unn-oo 'oo?' ('_I'll undo you_')

''Ow?' he muttered, swallowing dust. ('_How?_')

''Oove 'ound.' ('_Move round_')

'Ayy.' ('_OK_')

Alex shifted his chair so that it was backed against Lacey's, and felt her hands against his. She gasped at one point, as the ligaments in her arm stretched unbearably, but after what seemed like eternity he felt his hands loosen, and he brought them back to his sides with an amazing sense of relief.

''Ee now?' ('_Me now?_')

Alex shook off his gag. 'Of course.'

He undid her. She got up slowly, and reached into the back pocket of her jeans, and drew out a small, square iPod.

Alex gazed at her in amazement, but she simply pressed the ON button and passed it around the room.

'A scanning device?' he breathed.

'Of course.' She bent over it, and then drew back with a sharp intake of breath.

'What's that?'

On the screen of the iPod he saw that same blinking, inexplicable red square. He pointed at it.

'What _does_ that mean?'

She turned wide, horrified eyes up at him. 'That's the symbol for bullet vents.'

'Bullet vents?' Alex said, dreading the answer.

'It's what assassination organisations use for mass killings.' Lacey choked. She gathered herself together. Her face was pale, but set. 'Basically it shoots bullets from holes in the walls.' Her hand clutched for his. 'Come on, Alex, we have to go!'

'Wait – Lacey – there's something you have to know –'

'I cannot believe the KSR are behind this,' Lacey said stoutly. 'That's like saying MI6 is working with some terrorist organisation. This has got to be some breakaway unit. We have to warn HQ.'

She began to run, dragging Alex behind her. He struggled to talk, to warn her of the impending danger. KSR were behind this, all of them, every single one, and they were trapped, like sheep in the slaughter house. But the stressful night had taken its toll on him. His arms were aching and he was directing all of his leftover strength into his pounding, screaming leg muscles.

From an observation room, in front of a wall of cameras, Elle Vaughan chuckled and lit a cigarette up. She blew a cloud of evil-smelling smoke into the face of one of her henchmen.

'Of course, they were going to escape. And now it's crunch time. Now it's time to see if they're suitable for recruitment.'

The henchman choked back his smoky cough and nodded stonily. 'Of course, ma'am.'

Elle scowled at him. She peered back at the screen, and fingered the KSR badge on her chest.

'HQ would like to know the progress report. They've shown themselves to be remarkably resourceful and determined. I'm sure they'll get a glowing report once this evening's done.'

'And then?' the henchman asked stiffly.

'Then they'll go through the same course as you did.'

The henchman flinched involuntarily.

The corridor outside the hall was cool and dark. Lacey and Alex peered around suspiciously. It was too empty; too calm. Surely Elle would have left a guard.

'Watch out,' Alex warned. His knees were already bent in a Taekwondo preparation stance, but seemingly it was not needed. The corridor was, indeed, deserted.

As their eyes became accustomed to the darkness, they noticed it was very long, surprisingly long for a corridor. It must stretch the whole length of the building. At the end was a hatchway, of the kind you get in bowling alleys that come down over the skittles, but about three times bigger. Alex glanced at it for a moment, and then peered along the smooth metal walls of the corridor.

Metal walls? Why would a corridor have metal walls?

He peered back at the hatchway. Surely it had been shut a few seconds ago?

Lacey was squinting back through the gloom at the doorway behind them. Alex looked at her, and then back again at the hatchway.

It was fully open. In a matter of three seconds, it had opened smoothly and quietly.

Alex gripped Lacey's hand.

'Lacey …'

He saw the first crate as it rolled above the level of the hatchway and came careering towards them. It was shaped like a baked bean can, and stretched the width of a third of the corridor, and Alex could see by the speed it was travelling that it was very, very heavy.

He flung Lacey to one side, and the crate rolled past smoothly, a whiff of death on the wind. Lacey gasped and pointed, and Alex saw that another hatchway had risen up behind them. This had been planned. They were playing with them, like a cat with a couple of mice.

He saw the next crate coming down the centre of the corridor. The two of them split apart and threw themselves flat against the walls as the crate came past, but the walls were hot, suddenly and inexplicably burning. Alex heard Lacey yelp with pain, and he bit back his own cry. They careered drunkenly into each other as the crate disappeared, and Alex felt Lacey dragging him with all her strength to the other side of the corridor as yet another crate rolled past.

'I can't do this,' he gasped. 'Lacey – I can't –'

'You _can_!' she snarled, her fingernails biting into his wrist. This sharp, unnecessary pain on top of the dull ache of his limbs and the burn on his right hand and arm brought him back to earth.

'Listen, Lacey –'

They leapt apart as another crate came rolling towards them.

'It's electronically powered. There's a switch! By the hatchway!' Lacey shrieked over the terrible grinding sounds of the crates rolling.

Then they saw it. Out of the hatchway rolled a crate that was the width of the corridor exactly. There was no escape.

'Lacey! Lacey, can you get over it?'

'Are you mad?' she screamed back.

He grabbed her. The roll was getting louder, the metallic burning smell reaching his nostrils. He yelled, the heat getting unbearable, Lacey's hair in his mouth:

'I'm going to throw you! It's the only way!'

He braced his muscles and felt Lacey's feet tense and push off from his body. He couldn't see if she'd gone over the crate. He couldn't see anything, except that great, huge, rolling hulk of death careering towards him. He began to stumble backwards. He wasn't going quickly enough. He was going to die. This was it. After everything, this was the end.

And then magically, slowly and surely, the crate ground to a halt in front of him. The heat lessened and Alex took three huge, deep, thankful breaths of cool air. From behind the crate he heard Lacey's voice yell.

'Alex – Alex, are you alright?'

'Yes!' he croaked back.

He scrambled up to the crate. It was studded all over with evil-looking spikes. He touched one. It was still hot, but bearable.

'Coming over!'

He wrapped his hands in his T-shirt and began to climb.

In the observation room, Elle Vaughan whistled.

'For a moment then I didn't think they'd make it. That boy's going to have some bad blisters. I wouldn't climb those spikes.'

The henchman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, 'Hypocrite.'

Alex's hands were burning by the time he reached the top of the crate, but he dared not go very fast because of the spikes. He thanked his trainers for their thick soles.

He saw Lacey's face swimming below him, caked with dirt and blood and streaked with sweat. Thankfully, he leapt down to join her.

She touched his arm, a brief gesture of gratefulness. Then she turned to the matter at hand.

'How do we get out?'

'The hatchway.'

'You think?'

'No other way.'

They set off towards the hatchway. It was still half open, and seemed to be stuck there. Lacey wormed her way underneath without hesitation, and Alex followed suite. They found themselves on the brink of a dark hole. Alex had a suspicion that it led down into a large storage container full of those murderous spike-covered crates. He slipped a penlight from his pocket and shone it beyond the hole.

'I think there's a corridor beyond there.'

'Can we jump?'

This was what Alex liked about Lacey. She was always ready, undaunting, daring and full of her lithe power.

'I think so.'

He passed the penlight to Lacey, and attempted to rub a little of the feeling back into his legs. Then he prepared himself and sprang.

He hit firm ground and had prepared himself well. Before him he could just about see Lacey's face, her cheeks hollow in the light of the penlight.

'It's OK,' he called back.

She arrived sooner than he expected, and he heard a little gasp from her before she backed and nearly toppled over the edge of the hole. He grabbed her, and she clung to him for a second, shaking.

'OK?' he said gently.

'Never been better,' she said, disengaging herself and gazing into the darkness stretching out before them.

They set off. It was hard going. They walked slowly for fear of other holes, and the darkness and the heat was oppressive. In a games hall, a corridor with metalled walls and such a long, enclosed corridor would have been inexplicable, but the two of them had long ago stopped thinking it was a games hall.

Alex could feel Lacey suppressing a shiver beside him. Apparently, it would seem she was more afraid of this tight, breathless corridor than she'd ever been perched on the edge of the roof or swinging from a branch several metres above the ground.

He began to talk, to ease the silence.

'So – how long have you been here in Kentucky?'

'My whole life,' she said, with a deep sigh. 'But – I don't know. I doubt I'll stay here now. I've got nothing here now. Mila's dead. My brother's gone to the army. I guess I'll be sent to my cousins in London.'

Did he feel a slight thrill, even now, in the seriousness of their situation, at her words?

'I live in London.'

'I know,' she said softly. He saw the damp reflection of her eyes for a second. Then her voice said through the darkness, 'Have you ever had any relationships?'

He knew exactly what she meant.

'Well – one. I'm not even sure if it was a serious one.'

'Who was the girl?'

'Her name was Sabina Pleasure.'

He heard her snort. 'Sounds like a porn star. No offence or anything. You still – you know – going out?'

'I don't think so. I haven't seen her for months and besides, it was never official.'

The air was becoming less oppressive. Alex reached out two hands and found he couldn't touch the sides of the tunnel any longer.

'I think it's widening up. How about you?'

'I had one boyfriend three years ago.'

He sensed it was a delicate subject, and so he didn't probe.

Lacey took a breath. She opened her mouth, about to say something, but suddenly there was cold steel pressed to her temple.

'All right, kids. The fairytale is up,' Elle Vaughan's voice said, and a glaring white light switched on.

The two of them glanced around their surroundings. They were back in the hall with the bullet vents. Alex's heart sank. Of course. There were cameras everywhere. No doubt Elle had been watching their every move, including their near death experiences in the corridor.

'Tie them up,' Elle instructed, out of the corner of her mouth.

The two of them were too exhausted to offer any sort of fight. They succumbed to the sharp pain of their arms being wrenched back and tied at the wrists.

Elle showed no signs of leaving them, but her two bodyguards, as soon as they had done with the rope, threw her their pistols and left. She picked up the first of them and played menacingly with it for a few moments, squeezing the trigger back tantalizingly close to Lacey's skull. Lacey, Alex was pleased to note, did not flinch. Instead she gazed back steadily at Elle. After a while, Elle appeared to become uncomfortable, and dropped the pistol.

'So, Ms Andrews. Or should I say Anders? Are you enjoying your little stay with us here? I must say I didn't think you two would be out on the first night. But then again, you _are_ MI6 trained, aren't you?'

Elle shot this at Alex, and spat precisely at his trainered foot. He moved it unhurriedly out of the way and looked back at Elle with cold disgust.

She shifted, uncomfortable now that these two teenagers were not weeping to be let free.

'I suppose, Ms Anders, you'd like me to explain this?'

She pointed at the KSR badge on her chest.

'If you would,' Lacey said indifferently.

'I'm afraid your little spying agency is actually just a cover-up for our real activities.'

Lacey's eyes bulged, but she didn't say anything.

Elle put her face very close to Lacey's. Lacey recoiled from the layer of grease under her make-up.

'Do you want to know how your sister died?'

Lacey's face stiffened.

'She worked for us. She was the best spy we'd ever had, until one day she found out just exactly what the KSR is, but not until she'd signed a contract giving you and your brother over into the care of the KSR, putting you on contract to work for us for the next twenty years.'

'My sister would never have done that,' Lacey said through clenched teeth.

'Oh, she had to. There was no money for you otherwise. Don't you remember how you rejected the care of your cousins and instead decided to live independently in that huge, neglected house of yours with only a girl barely seventeen to care for you?'

'And what does the KSR do?' Alex asked. He could see that Lacey had gone very pale. Her eyes were nearly colourless now, and her lips were almost grey.

'Mr Rider,' Elle purred. 'Haven't you worked that out yet?'

'You're some sort of killing agency,' Lacey broke in. 'This school is your training headquarters. That corridor we were in is one of the training exercises. This room is where you either train or kill people, considering the bullet vents. This is where you train people to be murderers.'

'You're quite right, of course,' Elle said, smiling wolfishly. 'Clever girl. The KSR is the national assassination network. And this school is our recruitment outback.'

'But why exactly did you want us to come here?' Alex demanded. 'Since it was you who organised the whole 'computer theft' thing I presume you want us for some reason. What is it?'

Lacey turned bleak, wide eyes on him. 'Alex – don't you see? They want to recruit us to be killers. Otherwise they'll kill us.'

'You've already shown yourselves to be both brave and resourceful. In fact, it was Ms Anders that we were planning on recruiting, but since the Kentucky Police refused to give us a warrant so that Lacey could enter the Rosary School as a legal spy we had to bring you along too to satisfy them, and let me say, you are a great asset. Ms Anders would be dead if it wasn't –'

'What about my parents?' Lacey cut in. 'Did you kill them too?'

'Your family are saints,' Elle snapped. 'They refused to work for us when we showed our true colours … and so they had to go.'

Lacey swallowed painfully.

'And what about you, Ms Anders?' her voice was soft now, soft and dangerous and full of acid poison. 'Are you going to die the same death as your parents, or are you going to join with us?'

Lacey drew herself up, and hardened her face, but Alex had just had a sudden inspiration. If they could only convince Elle that they would be loyal workers for the KSR, then they would have much more of a chance of escape.

'I'll do it,' he cut in.

Lacey turned and directed such a look of betrayal at him that he almost wavered, but he glanced at her for a second and she understood, or at least appeared to. She slumped, looking exhausted.

'All right. I will, too.'

'Good.'

Elle was pleased. The two were so exhausted by now that they would have agreed to anything, but she was sure she'd done well. They'd done enough for tonight. They could go to their beds.

'I'm glad you two have decided to play nicely,' Elle said. Perhaps she almost thought, then, if it was really sensible to let them go, but the arrival of her henchmen just when she was undoing the ropes cinched it.

'Miss Vaughan,' one of them said, 'do you really think this is sensible –'

'Whether it is sensible or not is up to _me_, Jameson,' Elle snarled, straightening up, 'and besides, it's _Ms_. Go back to bed, the two of you. I'll take these two back myself.'

The henchmen left the room, muttering. That was when Lacey karate-chopped the back of Elle's neck.


	8. Epilogue

Well, here it is! The last chapter of my first ever fanfic. And I hope you won't be disappointed since there isn't going to be a total lack of kissing scenes. Thanks again to everyone who's ever reviewed this and thanks to anyone who's reading this but don't forget … press that little button at the bottom which says '_Submit Review_' …

Thanks most of all to **Fudge 1** for all her consistent 'help' (in inverted commas), encouragement and rude comments about Alex's teenage blues. I don't know where I'd be without you!

Epilogue

Alex gazed out of the window of the aeroplane. He was heading home, and for once, he felt like he'd left a part of himself back in the tacky little Kentucky airport.

The farewell had been so awkward. Lacey had been gazing at her scuffed trainers, barely raising her eyes to his when he said goodbye. She wasn't in zombie mode, Alex understood, she was embarrassed. And she was preoccupied. He would be, too, he reasoned with himself. KSR had been uncovered, so Lacey had no appointed guardians of any sort. She thought she'd be sent to a state orphanage to finish her education, and then what? There was no money to send her to college. She'd wind up wiping greasy tables in a downtown burger bar.

Alex couldn't even work out his own feelings now. He'd been hoping to get some sleep on the plane ride, but he still felt as jetlagged as he had when he'd first arrived in Kentucky, and he still couldn't sleep. Lacey preyed on his mind. Lacey was everything. Lacey was stubborn, noncommitive and sarcastically nasty. She was rude and uncooperative. But she was the only girl Alex had really had any respect for; she was the only girl Alex had ever marked down as an equal.

She was the only girl Alex could ever have imagined himself spending the rest of his life with, and she was the only girl he could now, in all honesty, admit to himself that he would most likely never see again.

'I'll write to you,' she'd said. This was all he could get out of her. In those cool blue eyes, he'd seen something of his own feelings reflected, but Lacey was so closed in. And she had been getting tighter and colder as their final meeting drew to an end. She was counting the minutes, he thought. Counting down until she was told to pack up and leave her home, and go to an orphanage.

Alex had a fleeting thought. Did she blame him? Lacey was so unpredictable. Perhaps she would have preferred the life of a contract killer to what lay ahead of her. Unwillingly, Alex thought he probably would, too. There was a certain chilling romance about it all.

'Any orders, sir?'

He glanced across the empty seat beside him at the aisle. The air hostess was standing over him, her face in shadow. He could feel her eyes piercing him. A feeling of déjà vu pricked his skin.

He said, 'Lacey, for goodness' sake, I'm not stupid, you know.'

Lacey Jayne Anders slid into the seat beside him, and pushed her arms around his neck, but her touch was gentle, so unlike the first time she'd fastened her fingers around his neck. She tipped his chin up, and then she kissed him.

'I know you're not,' she breathed into his mouth.

'What are you doing here?' he asked, aware that he was breaking the magic of the moment. She laughed and pulled herself out of his arms, sitting up to unbutton the outfit. 'You planned all this, didn't you?'

She nodded, still giggling. It slowly dawned on Alex that he'd never seen her giggle like this before. It was as if all her troubles had simply been wiped off the face of the earth.

'Well? You gonna tell me or what?'

'I'm gonna tell you,' she whispered. 'I'm gonna go to one of your posh London schools. I got some money from the council for the case. They offered me school funds. And asked me where I wanted to go.'

'And you said London?' Alex asked in disbelief. 'Seriously, Lace, you are under some delusion. There are plenty of better places.'

'But you're not any place else,' Lacey murmured. 'I wanted to be with you.' She leaned over and kissed him again. 'Isn't that OK?'

'That's fine by me,' Alex whispered huskily. 'Just … do me a favour, Lace? Don't tell MI6 that you're here. I don't want you getting mixed up in anything again.'

'It's in my nature,' she whispered, and he saw those familiar blue eyes flash. 'I'm gonna be a spy always. Like you, Alex.'

'Like me?'

The plane began to dip into the clouds above London. Alex watched the wisps of cloud pass the window, watched as the tiny, doll-sized city below him began to grow in size, and trees appear by the ribbon roadsides. He couldn't wait to get home.

Even if that meant going back to where Alan Blunt could reach him. It dawned on him that he didn't hate Blunt, and never had. Blunt was pitiable, he realised. He never went out there and experienced life. Alex thought, for one, fleeting instant, that he was lucky. He had lived, so far, unscathed, and he knew more about life than any fourteen-year-old of his age had any right to know. This might, one day, save his life.

If Blunt and Mrs Jones didn't kill him first. He wondered idly what they would ask him to do next. He had given up all hope of being left in peace. There was always something that a teenage spy would be invaluably useful for. He wondered if, when he was older, he could hand in his gadgets and go to college, and he realised suddenly that he did not want to do this. There were a few people, he realised, that kept the world safe for all the others. He looked about him at the bland, peaceful faces of the other passengers, and the alert, watchful gaze Lacey snapped onto him. He and Lacey were so unlike these people. They had a job, he thought. A mission. A vocation. It had been thrust on both of them, but they had to do it.

It was a destiny, Alex realised. However hard he tried to ignore it, it was a destiny.

But I don't need to face it alone this time, he thought to himself, looking sidelong at Lacey's face. She had closed her eyes now, as if she were tired, or just listening idly to the whirring of the engine and the low chatter of the passengers around them … I have Lacey. She'll always be there for me.

Alex Rider closed his eyes and smiled.

Author's Note:

Ahhhh, isn't that sweet? This is my first ever fanfic finished. Totally. Took me a while, and I must say it is a relief to have finished Lacey and Alex. They might have another adventure, but not yet. The first Alex Rider film is gonna be out very, very soon, and Alex is a total hunk! Check him out. Also, watch this space. I'm gonna write another fanfic soon. When my stupid school festival is out of the way.

Until then, good luck with all of your fanfics!

Lotsa luv

Jen X


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